


Golden Meadows

by DeathOfABacheLarrY



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1910s, Bittersweet, Harry Styles - Freeform, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, M/M, Sad, Song fic, larry au, larry stylinson - Freeform, ophelia - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29218980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathOfABacheLarrY/pseuds/DeathOfABacheLarrY
Summary: Harvest-golden meadows.The particularly cloudy days.Was when he shined best.This quick little fic was inspired by Ophelia. If possible, please read this fic while listening to Ophelia. It really helps set the mood. Background information: Harry is trying to trek his way to the next train station, but meets someone unexpected on the way. Set in the early 1910’s. Updates every day. Thank you for reading, please consider giving a vote/kudos or dropping a comment. It means the world to me. Love y’all :)
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Kudos: 3





	1. where

Five years.

The chilled glass of the train window.

Still reminded him of a glass of fresh milk.

Endless dull gray meadows.

The wheels on the track cried out.

He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

The creases held the tenderness of care.

Yet the age of an oak.

The air was sharp.

Cutting through his eyes.


	2. did

He was young.

In his sixteenth year of life.

Knapsack on his shoulder.

The gravel crunching underneath his worn boots.

The empty tracks stretched into the distance.

Clouds framed his figure.

Fog hanging down like a lullaby.

The tall grass nibbling at the air.

Shaking their heads and tugging at their roots.

The next station should be near.


	3. you

A sole leaf blew past him.

Tumbling out it’s farewells.

The air was humid.

It clung to everything in its way.

Making his cheeks glow a warm rose.

On his way to see his aunt.

All the wishes in the world were used by him.

To find a distraction.

Escape.

Drown away in a pool of dirt stained coveralls and murky dawn.


	4. go?

He thought he heard a laugh.

Chiming through the air.

Pressed into the ground.

The sound of light footsteps floating across the crisp abyss.

His thin soles stopped.

And there he was.

Running through God’s autumn-worn garden.

His light, golden hair created a halo around him.

Unstained canvas shirt.

Barefoot and scuffed jeans.


	5. you

The singing creature stopped his larking about.

As he heard footsteps near.

He was intrigued at first sight.

Mellow thin lips contrasted with clear cerulean eyes.

So clear he could use them to paint the sky.

All he could do was stare.

His hand was then grabbed.

Dragging him further into the meadows.

A sunny folk song inking the forms of delight.

The weeds turning more and more golden by the second.


	6. were

They reached a thick tree.

It's gnarled branches reaching upwards toward the sky.

Beckoning it to grant permission to the heavens.

Spotlights of sun freckled the sanded herbs.

His hand still held.

His heart still pumping with anticipated melody.

The mysterious beauty had rosy cheeks.

Face lighting up with laughter.

As he was promptly pulled into a waltzing jig.

The granulated atmosphere was filled with loud laughs.


	7. supposed

They had fallen down.

Lungs weak from chortles.

The stunning boy whispered one word to him.

“Louis.”

And pulled him into a light kiss.

He tasted golden.

He swore he saw daisies and oranges.

Yellows and reds.

Searing at his lips.

All fog had freed itself from the day’s clutches.


End file.
